


the mountain smoked beneath the moon

by windbellows



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Ficlet, Gen, One Shot, Worldbuilding, might be updated sooner or later, some sheikah lore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:29:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27826810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windbellows/pseuds/windbellows
Summary: Impa, funerals, and the strange nature of luck.
Kudos: 13





	the mountain smoked beneath the moon

**Author's Note:**

> been playing age of calamity lately and while i find the gameplay incredibly fun, i've come to realize that i tend to dwell more on what happened after the calamity and before link's awakening (heh), as opposed to what happened before. this is my first time writing impa and she's such a gem to play in age of calamity i hope i did her justice  
> as a fair warning, this does discuss death and the disaster of the calamity, so please proceed with caution  
> title from misty mountains of "the hobbit" fame, the song is botw if you squint

On a good day, Kakariko offers a lovely view of the marshlands and the hamlet. They had a good relationship, the townspeople of Goponga and the Sheikah, and oftentimes they would trade food and supplies. It’s not unusual for farming communities a long ways from the castle to share a stronger relationship with their neighboring, larger village; Impa’s been in Tabantha a few times and had seen the strong Rito influence. As it was, the Sheikah had attended the lower village’s celebrations, and Goponga had honored the privacy of theirs. Together they used to ring in the harvest and the passing of seasons. 

Today is a bad day after a series of terrible ones, and the marshlands are burning. Guardians scurry through the water on the hunt for Kakariko, but Impa’s heard of the happenings at the Dueling Peaks and all other ways are simply impossible to climb. Unless they make the long trek around, there’s no way for Kakariko to be reached. She’s sent out patrol after patrol to keep watch around the hills, and near the ruined promenade. 

But the Guardians found Goponga first. 

The sky is a deep red. Impa kicks kindling together, and kneels and starts a fire with a quick wave. A torch leans against the fence, much thinner than a typical one. Impa had made it herself, in the chance of an occasion such as this. Blue flames dance on the kindling - in the ages-long absence of working furnaces until recently, they had learned to produce the Sheikah flame on their own. 

When the ground had started to shake and the sun burst with Malice, Impa and a few other capable souls had rushed to the hamlet - she had immediately sent a group to _find the Princess, and see to her safety-_ but they had been too late, and the Guardians had done their red-hot work. Survivors had been ushered as quickly as possible to Kakariko and Impa sent out people to scour the roads, and bring in any more they found. The village was filled with the sounds of sorrow, cut through with the chill of shocked silence. 

It’s not silent here, near the graveyard - there’s always the rustling of some ghost or another. If she squints, Impa could probably make out the shape of a soul or two by the fence, looking out over the remnants of Hyrule, but Impa can’t bring herself to look up at all. She wills the fire to be stronger, and it weakly flares. 

The past few weeks had been a whirlwind of racing around Hyrule, meeting other scouts from their outposts at makeshift crossroads and hearing the news - the Champions are lost. She was too late for Zelda, and too late for the others. The knight slumbers in their lost shrine upon the Plateau, but even that doesn’t give Impa much hope. According to the report from her sister, Zelda had claimed the sword had given her odds which were “worth taking” - her words - and although the Plateau was impossible to scale, by sheer luck Purah's group with Link’s body in tow had stumbled across a family of Rito fleeing from Deya, who had offered to fly them up. 

Impa frowns. It might have been chance, but the knight was certainly lucky. She had liked him enough, withdrawn as he was, and back when Zelda rather detested him, Impa, alongside Urbosa, had pushed her to form some sort of better bond. 

She swallows curses - she’s cursed enough for a lifetime, but there’s room for more later - and grabs the torch from beside her, dipping it into the flames. It catches the blue light. Impa gazes at it for a moment, then blows it out. A funeral service, for the princess trapped in blinding light. 

She dips down, lights the torch, blows it out, repeats. One for Mipha, one for Daruk, one for Revali, one for Urbosa. One for Link, should he not make it after all. If his luck holds out, the Calamity won’t worm its way into any more of _their_ ancient technology, unearthed for the king after being shunned for so long. 

Impa doesn’t curse, but she does spit on the grass in the general direction of the castle, and lights a torch for the countless dead. This she leaves propped against the cliffside; it'll leave a mark, but certainly a calmer burn than lasers and red fire. Impa stands up, exhales, spits one more time over the fence, and goes to check on survivors. 

\--

In time, the period after the Calamity will come to be known as the Age of Burning Fields - in part due to the fires left by Guardian beams, and in part due to the makeshift pyres that dotted Hyrule, flickering blue in place of the sky that lay hidden behind Malice. As was their tradition, the Sheikah scouts had lit fires for the bodies they found and those long past recovering.

Both flame and pyres are long gone.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!


End file.
